


Kill Phil

by rsfahrudeen



Category: Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms
Genre: Crossdressing, Potty Humor, always rsvp, faerly bad puns, king malcom is not a feminist, old fairy tales are dark af, things do not go as planned, would true princess put up with this?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 07:46:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8363869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rsfahrudeen/pseuds/rsfahrudeen
Summary: Sleeping Beauty retold inspired by both an older more adult version and Kill Bill by Quentin Terantino (minus the foot fetish)





	

             It all started one day when King Malcom got drunk at the christening. He had really wanted a boy. He wanted a boy so much he believed he was going to get one. He was so certain, he hired tutors, weaponry and falconry instructors. He even sent away to the far eat for a hand to hand combat master when he learned his wife was pregnant. When he arrived home from escorting the eastern specialist, just in time for the christening, he was greeted with the joyous news of the birth of his daughter. To cope, he used his usual method of dealing with disappointment: four bottles of tequila.

             His wife, however, was thrilled and even invited all the fae in the kingdom to heap blessings upon her most cherished of offspring. Thirteen gold plates at the head of the table and thirteen golden forks, spoons, and knives. Thirteen gold place tags and thirteen gold thread napkins. As the thirteen golden goblets were being carried out to the table, his majesty received an urgent message from nature.

          The steward was in a panic. The entire staff had seen the defilement of one of the Faer goblets. Should one of them use the cup there was no way that the accident would go unknown. So he threw the offending goblet into the fire and searched for another. None was to be found. As he stood staring at the incomplete setting he saw the name on the tag.

           Fae Podia had, since immediately after the birth moved to another kingdom hundreds of miles away due to a curse of inclement weather her estranged sister had cast on her mountain the year before. The chances of her having received the invitation in time were about as likely as the palace gossip chain not informing everyone in reach of the cup’s fate. Thanking the gods he removed the entire setting.

              The dinner went tolerably well, aside from the king’s occasional lamenting moan whenever a gender specific reference was made in regards to his offspring, and a late arrival of a rather wet disgruntled old woman who couldn’t seem to find her seat. But the princess had napped the entire meal and was so adored the other minor disturbances were hardly noticed.

               After the first few gifts of  “Quickness of Study”, “The State of Peak Cosmetic Potential” and “Everpresent Sense of Justice”. The remaining fae were stumped. All the non ‘monkey’s paw’ gifts had been given. It was at that convenient lull that the old woman chose to make her grievance known.

          “I have traveled,”she spoke up, approaching the cradle, “Over five hundred miles to receive no welcome, no place befitting my position, and had to endure the incessant whining of this inebriated fool!” As she stamps her minuscule foot, her sisters in Faeth recognized the distant Fae Podia.

           “I’ll tell you what, your majesty.” she continued. “You hate having a daughter so much, how about this? In sixteen years Elice will... prick her finger... on a spinning wheel and you won’t have a daughter anymore! Because she'll die. Good Bye!”And she unceremoniously stomped her other tiny foot and vanished in a puff of rage. The remaining fae were filled with relief. It was no difficulty to think of a fitting gift for the princess now. They all clamored to the rescue all shouting over the others until the king had succeeded in reviving his wife, who then slapped him into sobriety. The first fae chosen to speak changed the curse of death to a curse of an ageless sleep. The second decreed that she should awaken at the arrival of her true love. The third fae left set up the company of her family and servants upon her awakening. The remaining five set up safe guards to protect the castle while they slept.

Now the king was surprisingly unable to sleep that night. Several questions popped into his mind. Most prominently the questions of what was he going to do with all those tutors he’s already hired and how he was going to choose his daughter’s husband if she’ll be awakened by her true love? To think he could choose a man to marry her before sixteen who would also be her true love was not an arrogance he was capable of at this level of sobriety. To marry her before hand would be courting disaster.

How could he raise her in such a way that her perfect man would be his perfect son in law? And then it hit him. He would foster in her all the traits that would make a perfect man so far as her gender was thus capable. So when she was sixteen her ideal man, who as a man would have to be superior to her in all ways, would be everything he would choose for his daughter were he left the choice.

 

“... The tutors stayed and the Princess Elice grew to be the epitome of Princely Virtue.”

“And just what does this have to do with the assassin that’s murdering my most trusted knights?” The king slammed his fist onto the arm on his throne. “Dammit minstrel, you were brought here for information not entertainment,” he snaps, leaning back.

“Your majesty please.” The young minstrel bows to appease him.  “This is my trade. It’s the most accurate way I know to portray my gathered knowledge. If your highness wishes faulty messages. I will do my best. But the integrity of my news lies solely in the full and orderly presentation of the tale.”

The king sighs and scratches his scraggly beard. The weariness drips from his eyes onto his sagging cheeks, aged from the past months’ care and sleeplessness. For the past year his most trusted guards have been systematically hunted down and murdered like dogs in the street. Only Charles, his younger brother is left. After having disappeared for months, he returned with this storyteller and has since been kept by the king's side. Both King and Prince under the impenetrable protection of the king’s guards.

“Alright.” He sighs after Charles gives him an encouraging nod. “Continue then.”

“For fifteen years, Princess Elice had been the perfect gentleman....”

 

The disdain for womanly past times fostered in her made many believe that she would never be caught in the same room as a spindle much less touch one. This confidence her in invincibility was fueled by the new width and bluntness regulations for kingdom spindles, setting a new standard for spool of thread throughout the lansds far and wide.

Until one day, an old woman entered the tallest room of the tallest tower for her scheduled spindle inspection. Princess Elice brought a message to the inspector and in the hurry to shoo her from the room with minimal damage, the bag of uninspected spindles fell onto the floor. The princess, a true gentleman, bent to help pick them up and a panicked aide rushed to her, accidentally kicking a splintered spindle into her outstretched finger.

Immediately the Fae’s gifts of protection and preservation took effect. A huge fortress of brambles shot up around the castle. The moat deepened by several fathoms and bears, trolls, giants and dragons ambled on over to devour intruders as well as a few hapless servants. Creeping moss covered everyone, turning and supporting the princess in a makeshift bed as well as covering her body when in the course of a hundred years her clothes aged and fell off.

On the fateful day she awoke, it was with a sharp pain in her stomach which now loomed high above her breasts. Her screams echoed the halls and the castle denizens awoke to the sound of a wailing infant.

In the chaos that ensued, the bones and carcass of the beasts lay scattered about the grounds and a bridge spanned the moat. The brambles had burned to the ground many months ago. The castle treasury was empty. It was quickly deduced that the father of her child had come to rescue her and when he had discovered that he was not her true love, taken her dowries anyhow.

The king and many servants died in the ensuing famine, the king in a hunt, the servants of starvation. When the boy was weaned the princess swore vengeance and left him with her mother to go reclaim her family’s wealth. She disguised herself as a maid and traveled the lands gathering information on recent exploits to determine who had ruined her and her kingdom. In the year of servitude, she pieced together tale of King Philip of Derminis’ princely exploits that won him reknown. He and his knights had entered the castle expecting it to be abandoned and filled with the dragon’s treasure, the dragons being the only monsters that had survived the hundred years long enough to collect. When they discovered the enchanted sleepers, they pillaged the castle and one had fathered her son.

She traveled to Derminis and confronted each of the knights, famed in their kingdom for their “heroic” deeds. Before they died each swore they had never touched her, a few claiming only the king had entered the tower. Finally three months ago she came up on the last and youngest of the king’s knights, barely more than a squire at the time of the invasion and brother to the king.

She quickly defeated him and with her sword to his throat, demanded the truth. He had none to give her; he had done nothing but lie in camp after being burned in the death throes of the dragon he killed, with the scars to prove it. Her Everpresent Sense of Fairness won out and she spared him. As she started to cross the bridge, he threw a dagger into her heart to protect his brother from this crazed assassin.

 

“...her body tumbled into the ravine, into the depths of hell.” The minstrel bows and backs out of the room as the king just stares at his brother in irritation.

“You couldn’t have just told me that the assassin is dead?” he snaps, his gratitude overwhelming the young man, who flushes a bit in response.

“You know I don’t like to brag.” Charles mumbles.

“No, you just hire a minstrel to do it for you.” The king gets to his feet, finally ready for peaceful slumber.

“No, I.. I found him on the way home and thought you might like the chance to correct the misconception.” Charles takes hold of his brother’s arm as he goes to leave the throne room. “You don’t want this false hood being spread, do you?” The king tilts his head and concedes the point with a nod.

“Guards, kill the minstrel.” he casually waves to his men and takes back his arm.

“It’s not true, is it? That’s not what happened in there...”

“There are always decisions to be made in any royal venture and needs to be met in the wilderness. The ends justify the means.” he levels a contemptuous glare to his brother. Shouts burst from the hall and a guard falls through the door, pierced by his own spear. The minstrel walks back in, sword in hand and removes his cap, the long hair magnifying the feminine quality of her face. Charles quickly takes his brother’s sword and backs away.

“This can end one of two ways. You recind your claim upon the throne to Charles and myself as regents for your son and accept banishment from Derminis or I kill you and the same follows.”

“You’d betray your king and brother for some... emasculating woman?” King Philip turns back to his brother.

“I’m giving a rapist and thief to justice. If you weren’t my brother you’d have the choice of quick death or slow death. Do you submit?”

“I submit.” he clenches his teeth and takes off his crown.

“Barely more than a squire?” Charles gives Elice a wry smile. “And you didn’t defeat me that quickly.”

“Oh, honey. I did say that you killed me with a throwing dagger, through.” She walks over and gives him a kiss on the cheek. All the while keeping the sword tip at Philip’s throat.

“Yes, I appreciated that.”

 


End file.
